Leather and Lace
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: Laceley's lips closed on hers. He kissed completely different from the hurried way Darcy always kissed her. Just then, Darcy turned the corner, his face moving through the emotions of shock, anger, and finally, cold indifference. A general comes to Meryton and competes for Elizabeth's attention, with deadly results. Can Mr. Darcy still gain Elizabeth's love? Lemon. TW: Rape
As soon as Mr. Laceley's lips closed on hers, a rush of heat flooded through Elizabeth's body. The way he held her while he deftly played her mouth was completely different from the hurried, impatient way Darcy always kissed he. Laceley moved his head ever so slightly and over his shoulder Elizabeth saw just as Mr. Darcy turned the corner, his face quickly switching from an expression of shock and horror to a cold mask of indifference. As Mr. Darcy turned on his heel and retreated, Elizabeth swore she could feel Mr. Laceley smirk against her lips. But then he pulled her closer and she fell back into the kiss, all thoughts of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy left her mind.

* * *

"Elizabeth! Jane!" Kitty's excited squeal sounded upstairs. Elizabeth looked up, and Jane took the opportunity to kick her in the stomach, sending her into a puddle.

"What, Kitty?" Elizabeth wheezed as her younger sister charged down the cellar stairs.

"There's a new garrison coming to town!" Kitty primly ducked the throwing star Elizabeth sent her way and swung around a post. "Just imagine, all those officers fresh from the field. They're on mandatory leave from the front doubt they will be in need of company! I hear that they're headed up by the Brigadier General Laceley!"

"Perhaps Mr. Bingley will throw another ball for them." Jane said, cheeks flushing slightly.

"Of course he will! Brigadier General even outstrips Mr. Darcy's rank!"

"Another ball? Mr. Darcy will no doubt be terribly inconvenienced." Elizabeth replied as she stood up and brushed herself off.

"Oh, who cares about Darcy, that old limp haddock." Kitty huffed.

"Language." Jane said, tapping Kitty with her katana sheath. The oldest Bennett sister proceeded up the stairs. "Are you coming, Elizabeth?"

"I wonder what Mr. Wickham thinks of the new regiment." Kitty wondered aloud. "You should ask next time he calls, Lizzie."

"I shall do no such thing. The new regiment is aboslutely no concern of mine." Elizabeth replied sourly, sheathing her katana as well.

"Oh, go for a walk. That'll put you back in cheer before we go to town. Mother says we are to go in a group or not at all, and Lydia and I will not be dissuaded." Kitty snapped before pushing past Jane and running up the stairs.

"Has something happened between you and Mr. Wickham?" Jane asked quietly, observing her sister with keen eyes.

"No, Jane. Kitty is right. All I need is a walk and I will be set to rights." Elizabeth fibbed. She could tell that Jane was hardly persuaded by her excuse, but her sister let her up the steps without further argument.

Once out in the open air, Elizabeth let her katana swing freely, therapeutically decapitating some flowers as she loped by. The air smelled fresh for once. With the recent drought, dreadful appearances were at a low and the animals had begun to return to the Meryton area with fervor.

Elizabeth took one of her familiar paths through the grounds specifically for the amount of things to whack. She needed some relief from the feelings bouncing around inside her head.

Men. She couldn't abide by them. After the drama at Netherfield with Darcy and Wickham, she wasn't sure what to think about the species in general. The way the two behaved around each other was absolutely horrid, and the way they were stepping around her like lions in heat was beginning to get on her nerves. Mr. Darcy had repeatedly spurned her both publicly and privately, then asked her to dance at the Netherfield ball. She didn't know his Intentions, but it looked as if he had almost changed his mind about her.

And then there was Wickham; mysterious, gentlemanly Wickham. Mr. Darcy seemed to be the only one not enchanted by the man. Something nagged at Elizabeth. There Had to be some history there. Even though Mr. Darcy was generally disagreeable, he must have reason to show outward hostility to a man.

Elizabeth was so caught up in her thoughts that when an unmentionable sprung at her out of the underbrush, she barely changed the trajectory of her katana in time to lop of its head. A moan from her right indicated the approach of several of several more on their way. She swore under her breath. If there were more than three, she would feel the pressure.

She began a backward retreat in the direction of Longbourne. If she could get near enough so that Jane or Mary could hear her calls, she would be better off.

Five shadowy, bloody shapes began to shuffle out of the underbrush, heading straight for her. Elizabeth swore again and raised her katana.

The first zombie out of the trees was barely shambling along of putrid stumps of feet. Behind it were two more moving at a more rapid pace, obviously more recently dead. Elizabeth took a fighting pose. She took the first two out and then dispatched the slower one with a solid punch through the sternum followed by a swing of her sword.

Two more trudged out of the forest, closely followed by a whole herd, all freshly dead. Where on earth had they sprung from? Elizabeth checked behind her. She still had a clear path back to Longbourne. Without further thought, she turned on her heel and ran back up the path, the deadfuls quickly taking up at her heels.

Longbourne was just within sight when an unexpected root caught Elizabeth's ankle and sent her tumbling off the path and down a short ravine, where she hit her head on a rock.

Moans and growls sounded from the path, several zombies already smelling her change of direction. Elizabeth tried to clear her head and struggle to her feet, but her right foot wouldn't respond to any movement.

Just when Elizabeth began to give up hope, horse's hooves sounded on the path above. The herd of zombies began shrieking and wailing, and more importantly, retreating. Elizabeth couldn't see the riders from her position in the ravine, but she distinctly heard the sounds of three men on horseback fighting on the ridge above her.

"I say, Miss? Are you all right?" A tall, blonde man appeared at the top of the ravine.

"I-I'm fine." Elizabeth stuttered. Bright spots were still flashing in her vision and her ankle still wouldn't bear weight.

"Are you injured?" The stranger asked, dismounting. "Of course you are. Allow me to assist you." Elizabeth failed to protest as he wound his way down to her.

"Where does it hurt?" Closer up, Elizabeth realized that her rescuer was indeed, quite handsome. He was tall, not as tall as Mr. Bingley, with short blonde hair and piercing grey eyes.

"I tripped on a root." Elizabeth said, gesturing to her ankle, which had started to throb heartily.

"May I?" He gestured to her foot. She nodded. He took it gently in his hands and began maneuvering the joint, watching her face closely for signs of pain. She gave him an even stare back, using her training to control her reactions and keep her face smooth.

"Does it hurt terribly?" He asked.

"I've been injured worse." She replied. The stranger stood and offered his hand, which she took. As soon as she stood, a searing pain shot through her foot and her head spun. Luckily, strong arms kept her upright.

"Allow me to carry you to my horse, you're in no condition to walk." The stranger said. Elizabeth couldn't reply through the waves of nausea assailing her. Before she knew it, she was swept off her feet and carried up the edge of the ravine.

"Wait, wait. I can carry myself." Elizabeth protested. The stranger acquiesced, but kept a warm hand on the small of her back to steady her. The nausea abated, but her ankle still protested bearing weight.

"Charles, I found a lively!" Her companion called to one of the others who was finishing off the last couple dreadfuls not far away.

"A lively? The girl?" Charles called back. He trotted closer, and Elizabeth recognized him immediately as Mr. Bingley.

"Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy had heard the man's shout as well and come riding out of the trees. Elizabeth's knees began to go weak again, despite all her efforts to remain upright in the face of her enemy.

"You're bleeding." He slid off the back of his black mare and came to her, taking out his handkerchief as he went and dabbing at her forehead. "What happened?"

"She said she tripped on a root, I found her in the ravine just there." The stranger said.

"I'm familiar with her family, allow me to return her to them." Darcy said, still holding the handkerchief to her head. At those words, Elizabeth's knees did give way. Darcy lunged forwards, but the stranger swept her up into his arms before Darcy could eve catch her arm.

"Oh dear, I'll accompany you." Mr. Bingley said. "No doubt her sister will be missing her."

"I found her, I will do the honors of introducing myself to the family as well." Her stranger said. From the position in his arms, Elizabeth could hear the smirk in his tone.

"Very well..." Mr. Darcy said, his voice icy. "General."


End file.
